Читать книгу Italian Women's Erotic Sins, Volume I - Giovanna Esse - Страница 10

Flora thought she was going crazy, the situation had become untenable. Despite the promises made to herself and to the mother of Nicòle, the girl`s presence had become too intriguing, however oppressing for her. Her pleasure in feeling secretly observed from that little slut stirred the blood in her veins and, as soon as she saw or thought of her, she would find herself horny. From the very moment Nicòle would arrive at her home, her most inner part would begin to drool pleasure; she desired the orgasm for hours, while her cheeks glazed and her breasts sweat. She wanted her! And, of course, in the end she was left frustrated by the “stalemate” that she had solemnly imposed herself. She wanted to vent about her delicate body that infinite desire. The first day that Nicòle deserted lessons, Flora breathed of relief, after weeks of stress she seemed to regain control of her life and home. She had become a small despot; a real little rogue, that princess! The second day she got gloomy. She missed her. She wanted to still be bullied by the impertinent spy. She missed her eyes staring at her thighs. True that Nicòle had gone too far; being found naked on the toilet, still wet. Delicious thoughts had crossed her mind, as galvanic sparking currents, but she had to behave like a responsible adult. She had to resist! That evening she made up her mind and called one of her friends to give vent to her volcano of lust, but the man already had a commitment. The fact that she could have not him made her even more furious. She fumbled in her intimacy mechanically in bed, but the pleasure made her even more excited and unable to overcome her desire for Nicòle.

In the evening of the third day she decided to put an end to it and phoned.

"Yet, I was sure that she had warned you," said Franca, perplexed "today's young people no longer have any respect."

"No, leave her alone, they are just kids, maybe she gets bored here with me. Unfortunately I do not have neighbors with children of her age. I understand the poor girl." Flora justified her.

"Wait I’ll call for her, let’s see how she feels." Then Flora, anxious and awkward, heard the distant voices of Nicòle and her mother:

"What are you thinking? Why did you not warn Flora you were sick? "

"Ugh, but I was not well, I thought you had told her."

"You're a so rude. Now get on the phone and apologize ... " Other words that Flora could not hear followed. Shortly after, Nicòle came to the phone:

"Sorry!" she began.

"For what, my darling? I'm sorry you were not well," beaming Flora said " but now how are you feeling now?"

"I'm fine," Nicòle continued, somewhat laconic. Then, again, Flora heard mother and daughter confabulating in the background.

"Mom says: if it's not too much trouble, can I continue coming to you?"

Flora didn’t know how to conceal the joy that those words brought to her, her voice broke in trepidation, as she said:

"You know, Nicòle, now this is your home. You have to decide, if you want … us to see each other again."

"Yup. I still want to come" said the young girl.

The next day, when she entered the house, a fragrant scent of apple pie and cinnamon filled her senses. Flora went to meet her and they embraced without speaking. Since then, however, she no longer sat on the ottoman, but on the couch, next to Nicòle.